Amazing how home becomes remembered.
How going there mentally can be so secure and warm...can give one the energy to continue. It is a dimly lit haven, a nest, an embrace - such is home. My home - to be the circle of arms and the warmth of a kiss.
Myrna's tales were almost always seasoned with experience. She wore her age like a royal garment. The wrinkles, the folds all added to her serene authority as the elder, as the Queen. Her small, round face, her thin, translucent skin...radiated warmth, dignity while her eyes, gentle pools of wisdom and her broad white smile made her the mother of all.
Her tale that night was not told of her experience; but as the royal family (she being the head), was gathered for the festival of the goddess, she chose a more traditional myth to re-tell. Her smooth voice was carried through the dense night and through the leaves and creepers of the nearby forests. Lending such serenity to the evening, it brought upon the listeners tranquility...such that even the children were still, captured in the battles of her tale...marvelling at the heroic slaying of the twin demons by the great goddess.
The night passed. Morning came from the ocean's horizon and gently woke the encampment. It was decided that after a brief breakfast the men would go out into the forests and hills in search of added sources of water and food as they were to spend nine nights there. Aidan would lead.
While he would here nothing of it, Helena was determined to join them and gather for herself the ritual requirements- shee needed none to clear the path for her. Indeed she carried her royal blood well..it flushed through her being as her vibrant independence, radiant health and lithe limbs. Her sister Aideen, the milder of the two; some may even say 'the sweeter' of the two- stayed at the camp to aid the old Myrna with the care of the children.
The waves thundered on the shore...and bade good fortune. Spotting a white butterfly, Aideen felt the thrill of superstition run through her veins, telling her that today would be indeed revealing.
How going there mentally can be so secure and warm...can give one the energy to continue. It is a dimly lit haven, a nest, an embrace - such is home. My home - to be the circle of arms and the warmth of a kiss.
Myrna's tales were almost always seasoned with experience. She wore her age like a royal garment. The wrinkles, the folds all added to her serene authority as the elder, as the Queen. Her small, round face, her thin, translucent skin...radiated warmth, dignity while her eyes, gentle pools of wisdom and her broad white smile made her the mother of all.
Her tale that night was not told of her experience; but as the royal family (she being the head), was gathered for the festival of the goddess, she chose a more traditional myth to re-tell. Her smooth voice was carried through the dense night and through the leaves and creepers of the nearby forests. Lending such serenity to the evening, it brought upon the listeners tranquility...such that even the children were still, captured in the battles of her tale...marvelling at the heroic slaying of the twin demons by the great goddess.
The night passed. Morning came from the ocean's horizon and gently woke the encampment. It was decided that after a brief breakfast the men would go out into the forests and hills in search of added sources of water and food as they were to spend nine nights there. Aidan would lead.
While he would here nothing of it, Helena was determined to join them and gather for herself the ritual requirements- shee needed none to clear the path for her. Indeed she carried her royal blood well..it flushed through her being as her vibrant independence, radiant health and lithe limbs. Her sister Aideen, the milder of the two; some may even say 'the sweeter' of the two- stayed at the camp to aid the old Myrna with the care of the children.
The waves thundered on the shore...and bade good fortune. Spotting a white butterfly, Aideen felt the thrill of superstition run through her veins, telling her that today would be indeed revealing.
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